Staring at the Sea
by Ellen Jacee
Summary: Finian ponders Corinna. Oneshot.


Staring at the Sea

Who is she?

I realize that the question is not particularly important. Even if I did know her name, her status, her family… it wouldn't amount to anything. It wouldn't change my course of action. I would never betray her – she is the only one who lets me keep a secret. And now, even that does not matter – she is more of a friend than anyone else is at this estate.

Of course, she doesn't even know that I know she has a secret. Instead of telling anyone, I prefer to believe that I am in her confidence.

Nonetheless, knowing Corinna – or rather, Corin, for I don't honestly know that Corinna is her name; it's just the closest thing I can come up with – I might be found dead in the ocean soon after telling her that I do, indeed, know her Secret.

It was so obvious that she was not a man or a boy the moment she walked in. Her frame was too slim, her steps too quietly assured. When her eyes first looked upon mine, I'd felt like I'd seen into her soul – I saw lessons in cruelty, lessons against trust, lessons on self reliance, lessons that one could only ever learn through repeated experience, and even then…

I'd wanted to learn more.

She got her way. All the time. And I envied that – I _envy_ that. At first, that was all it was – yearning for the knowledge that this girl had gleaned through years of a life that was hell. Yearning for knowledge of the survival of iron-willed pride, and how to use and maintain that pride. I'd wanted all of the capability, all of the stoniness, all of the covert attention, all of the raw _power_ that she exerted just by being her.

At that time, I didn't understand – I'd thought she was two people. I'd thought there had been one on the top, a mask, per say, that she'd shown everyone else, and a different her underneath.

Only recently have I _understood_. There is no mask. Corinna is what she shows everyone, through and through.

I do not wish to be like her any longer.

She is cursed; she has that which I want, but the price it comes at is too high for anyone to pay. I muse at this; what does she regret? Anything? I doubt anyone could ever understand Corin. Corinna. Knowledge wouldn't help at all, either; knowing 'Corin' is a girl would just confuse a person more. Double identity? I think not. That is her very own shield – her double identity is her own identity. It would be like hiding a fish in the ocean; no one would look in the ocean for a _hidden _fish, and no one would suspect that she tells the truth in all but name.

I chuckle, and shake my head from side to side. Corinna, Corinna.

Who are you? You who take your true self, and use it as a shield? You, a silver haired girl, who take pure, unsatisfied, unformed and untouched truth, and turn it into a veil of lies to deceive the world's eyes?

I admire you. The rest of us fear to hide behind a barricade of authenticity, and when we do let slip a genuine piece of ourselves, we hurriedly paint it beige and hope it will blend in with that which is pretense. And the world finds our mish-mash of different falsities and the occasional truth believable. It seeks out the one truth, and validates the lies.

And the world can't have faith that your bold, vivid mural is honest.

It's too used to being deceived. It sees honesty as a sham, a trick, and it wishes to look closer. And when it looks closer, it sees the mural as your shield against the world, and lets that evaluation stand, and lets you walk on by.

But you know all of this.

You _engineered_ all of this, you clever, clever girl.

Cold, and clever.

But let me tell you something, Corinna. You may never hear these words come out of my mouth, you may never know that I ever thought them.

Corinna.

I'm laughing right now. You probably thought that with all of you calculations, with all of your coldness, with all of _you,_ this would never happen. But nothing can ever be perfect, Corinna. I know you know that.

I love you.

* * *

I hope that wasn't particularly ugly; I have a feeling it was. It's my second Folk-keeper fanfic, and I'm not so sure I did a good job of portraying Finian's pov. I'm pretty good at Corinna's voice, but Finian is... difficult.

Well, I hope you all like this. I know there's not much of an audience for Folk-keeper fanfiction on this site, but whatever. I love that book; it doesn't matter if there's an audience or not. Erm. Please review!

Thanks just for reading, though...


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